


First Meeting

by CatsWhiskers



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatsWhiskers/pseuds/CatsWhiskers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in his life, Douglas Richardson was truly in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> For Launa Alvara.
> 
> Because.

He was somewhat younger then, of course, but no less cynical. The world had not, if he was entirely honest with himself, been kind to him – all those golden opportunities had proved to be mere illusion, all the glamour and sophistication had proved facile and not, after all, worth the effort.

And so, as many of us do, he had crafted for himself a shell. And even that, intended as it had been to protect him from the pain and humiliation, was not what he had desired: not a barrier to protect him, but something brittle and delicate that broke all too easily and left him alone and hurt within its shards, cowering like a small frightened animal, afraid to let others see what he was really was.

Women. Women had always been at the root of the problem. He was always so anxious to impress, needing to know that one of these beautiful creatures wanted him, wanted to be seen with him. He watched enviously as other men courted and won their mates, and the envy turned bitter, and he became the sort of man that he had once despised: the sort of man that will take another man’s wife, not because he wants her for himself, but because he can.

Another notch in the bedpost.

Many of the beautiful creatures he took proved to be as illusory as he himself was : products of the surgeon’s knife, or the cosmetic manufacturer’s art. They starved themselves to be fashionably thin – one, he remembered, had been so obsessed with dieting that, when he undressed her, he could see her ribs clearly through the skin and muscle.

What _was_ her name?

The exception had been Sue – she hadn’t been thin, or obsessed with fashion, or convinced that men would love her if only she had her breasts enlarged, or her nose reduced, or various bits of her nipped or tucked or waxed. She was rather plain, to be honest, but she made him laugh, and – more importantly – she made him feel wanted. Special.

  
But she hadn’t been pretty. No heads had turned when he was seen with her, no other men had looked enviously at him.

  
Goodbye, Sue.

  
She hadn’t cried when he’d told her. She’d looked sad, and said quietly “Be careful what you wish for, Douglas Richardson. One of these days you might just get it.”

  
It was an odd thing to say, but he had an uneasy feeling that he knew exactly what she meant.

  
There was something else about Sue. He thought about her often, particularly when he was depressed, or drunk. She was the only one who no-one else had taken away from him.

  
Over the years he had developed a sophisticated veneer. He was the life and soul of the party, the man who always had the most beautiful women, who could always get a table in the best restaurants or tickets for the best shows, the man who was always right. He was never at a loss for words.

  
Until now.

  
She wasn’t particularly beautiful; she wasn’t thin or pale or tall. Her dark hair was plastered to her head.

  
No heads would turn with envy if anyone saw them together.

  
She was red-faced, and looked almost angry. She was, he realised, probably tired after what must have been a difficult and frightening journey.

  
She was the most gorgeous being that he had ever seen, and he was scared. Petrified. Frightened of her, frightened of his feelings for her, frightened that she would reject him.

  
For the first time in his life, Douglas Richardson was truly in love.

She stared at him – huge blue eyes, thick dark lashes that owed nothing to mascara. She was completely and utterly natural.

  
What was she thinking about? Was she wondering about him?

  
Oh dear Lord, please let me be good enough for her. Please don’t let me get this one wrong. Please let her love me.

  
He reached out to her, and took her in his arms.

  
Neither of them had made a single sound.

  
She was still staring at him.

  
Suddenly he realised that she didn’t even know who he was.

  
This time, Douglas Richardson, this time you don’t need to try and impress. This time you need to be honest – with yourself and with her. Because she is the one that you will never, ever stop loving just as much as you do at this very moment, when you’ve only just met. And all you need to do is to tell her who you are.

  
He kissed her damp forehead and whispered “Hello, darling. Welcome to the world. I’m your Dad, and I’m here to look after you.”


End file.
